


All In Its Time

by deaan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Domestic Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Mutual Pining, Only One Bed, Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:36:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29798916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deaan/pseuds/deaan
Summary: When you and Dean get hit by a witch's spell, you accidentally get sent ten years to the future. What happens when you come across some big surprises?
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	All In Its Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is the result of @spnfanficpond's Alpha Reader Program, where my mentor/alpha was @myinconnelly1 and she was absolutely awesome throughout the process! Checkout my tumblr of the same username, please do not copy my work anywhere else. Hope you guys like it Xx

"How the hell did we end up here?" You ask.

You and Dean are standing back to back in a fighting poise, fingers on the trigger, ready to fire at the slightest movement. 

You steel yourself to be on alert as a rush of adrenaline makes your blood pulse in your ears and take the unfamiliar setting in. A sudden change of scenery is never good, especially in your line of occupation. 

"Could be a teleportation spell." Dean’s theory doesn’t feel far-fetched so you hum in agreement. A moment ago, you and your hunting partner had been fighting a witch in her basement and a blink later has you staring straight at a fridge with children's drawings stuck on it using magnets. 

Silence takes over as you wait with bated breath for any indication of the witch just playing tricks with you, for you had almost had her at point blank, but then her apprentice had gotten the drop on you. He had covered you in a weird liquid mixture that had managed to get on Dean as well when he had run behind you and had successfully shot the witch-wannabe. The stickiness is still there, and you swear you can hear the echoes of the witch's cackle when she had seen that you two were hit by a spell. 

"That boy certainly proved to be worth my while." She had muttered wickedly when she sensed your hesitation. before muttering something in Latin. The next thing you know, your eyes are adjusting to see clearer due to the sudden shift from dim-lit cement walls to a kitchen bright with sunshine pouring in through the open curtains. 

When it becomes apparent that the threat isn't prominent right now, you take a step forward, looking around. You allow yourself to let your guard down and let your free hand run across the dark marble countertop and the teak cabinets surrounding it. 

"Illusion." You mutter as something clicks and you realize that the design is too similar to that of your dream house. You had always wanted to have something that reminded you of your childhood home. Your body is still in overdrive but you holster your gun as the advanced appliances gnaw at your hunch.

"You say anything?" Dean asks.

"Nah, nothing." You turn to him, swallowing a lump that had formed in your throat. 

He doesn't take the matter further, instead, he points towards the ceiling where a demon trap is painted and then you follow his eyes to the windows and the back door lined with salt. 

"Looks like a Hunter's house." Dean says, before opening a random cupboard. "Hey, you won't believe it, but this one is full of stuff to make pies."

"And a lot of other baked goods, Dean." You roll your eyes at his excitement, mind already running at hyperdrive due to anxiety to even humour him. 

It's like he can sense the tension rolling off of you in waves as he advances towards you. You feel your cheeks heating up as you lose yourself into his green eyes, narrowed at you in concern.

"You okay?" He inquires. Nodding, you hope that he isn't able to hear your heart thumping rapidly due to his close proximity, releasing a breath of relief when Dean just pats your back comfortingly before moving away. 

Fuck, it's good he didn't dig further, or your tongue was just ready to spit everything out. You have been repressing your feelings for the older Winchester for so long, you feel like you're about to burst whenever he does something like that. 

You mentally admonish yourself for concentrating on your stupid crush, who somehow has a beautiful silhoutte as he looks out at the backyard through the semi-glass backdoor, rather than think about the situation on hand. Which is, of course, certainly worse. And something you should definitely direct your attention at, even if the former option deserves it more. 

"Dean?" He gives you a look of acknowledgement before staring out again. "You think this could be a dream… like the ones djinn trap their vics in?"

"I don't know." Dean shrugs as he turns around. "Do you remember what she said during the spell?"

"One of them was _prosternum_ I think?" He chuckles, "Oh, shut up! You know I'm still working on my Latin. The other sounded something like _adam-o._ "

You could swear that Dean freezes on the spot, eyes wide in surprise, but then, in a subconsciously sinful move, he licks his lips, which you just want to taste by this point and makes your earlier thought disappear.

"Pretty sure 'prosternum' has something to do with dogs. It could be _posterum_ , which is a fancy word for future and _adamo_ is-"

He is interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching the door that leads into the kitchen. You draw and train your gun on the door as Dean puts a finger to his lips. He motions for you to follow his movements as he sticks to the wall beside the door. 

You imitate him without wavering, though on the other side of the door. The moment the stranger steps inside the door, you and Dean tap the safety off your guns in sync and aim them at his head. You see the new man's ears perk at the sound before he slowly turns and takes your breath away. 

Standing before you is a nearly exact copy of Dean Winchester. Your eyes shift between this new Dean and the one you know and love, trying to find out the differences. 

The other Dean is dressed in pajamas, his hair in a disarray as he glares at you two. There are deep creases in his forehead where your Dean only has small wrinkles, and a few added pounds which only make him look healthier and more cuddly. He looks happy too, his shoulders straight like he has dropped a lot of burden that your Dean carries.

This older Dean takes advantage of your internal conflict and disarms you with a sudden flurry of movements that you had learned only a few weeks ago from Sam.

"You snooze, you lose, sweetheart," Older Dean smugly says as your gun is now in his hands. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"You should know that, dumbass. You're the one strolling in my skin." You can feel your Dean getting angry as he cocks the colt. His other version chuckles, which puzzles you even more. "Oh, I'm not a shifter." 

Your Dean treads a bit closer to his clone, although a bit subtly. You suspect that he's gonna try the same thing older Dean did, but it's like the latter already knows his plays. "Another step and I'll pull the trigger."

Dean grumbles before moving back to his earlier position, "Let's put the guns down and we'll talk this shit out politely."

"We can if you put yours down first."

"What if you shoot anyway, you bastard." Your Dean says. You feel like a tennis spectator watching them go back and forth.

Other Dean just shrugs in response. "You'll just have to trust me then."

As younger Dean places his weapon on the floor and is about to kick it away, you realize that the shifter's focus is off you. Taking advantage of the fact, you grab his wrist with one hand and quickly disarm him, your gun now back in your control.

Both the Deans look at you with eerily identical looks of blended disbelief and pride. This time though, you don't allow yourself any moment of weakness. 

"Dean, do the test."

Your friend-slash-crush instantly takes his silver knife out, about to cut his duplicate when the other Dean just unceremoniously takes it and makes a small incision on his upper forearm and then reaches out to the drawer nearest to him. 

Just because the man wearing your best friend's face isn't a shapeshifter doesn't mean you can instantly trust him though. So you say, "No sudden movements." 

He gives you a nod before he takes a bandaid from the cabinet. Catching you and Dean exchange confused glances, he sighs. "I have diabetes, can't be too careful now." You snort at the prospect of Dean having cholesterol problems in the future but manage to keep it short as the pair scowl at you. "Your turn now." 

"Huh?" You ask. 

"Well, you two are standing in my house. I think it's within my rights to ask for a check too."

You peep at your Dean for affirmation, and when he takes his knife from the other Dean's extended palm, you take yours out and do a small cut on your arms too. Then, as you're about to say something, you feel your face being splashed with what must be holy water. Some of it goes down the wrong pipes, making you sputter uncontrollably. 

"Shit!" Both the men say simultaneously, your Dean quickly rubs his hand on your back to calm you down. You are too distracted by your coughing to see that the other Dean had reached out to comfort you too, but had quickly retracted upon finding a warning glare directed at him by the same eyes as his own.

Still, he gestured for Dean to take you through the door, and made your wheezing self sit down at the dining table to catch your breath.

"It was a witch, wasn't it?" The gruffness in older Dean's voice is noticeable as he asks once your lungs are free of holy water, which makes you wonder if it's wrong to fall for the future version of your crush. 

His words lead you to raise your eyebrows in perplexion. But you know from your year long training with the Winchesters not to take bait so you confidently question.

"Why do you say that?"

You are still in the dining room with your Dean sitting on your left and the other man opposite to you. Playing with the glass of normal water you had been offered, you eye a chair fitted with a booster seat, remembering the crayon art on the refrigerator, you realize that there is a child in the house too.

From there, your gaze travels to the other Dean's hand where you catch the glint of a metal on his ring finger. You take a sip to hide your heart crumbling inside when he replies. "Believe it or not, you've travelled ten years in the future. I was in your shoes once."

You thank whoever is looking over you that you had swallowed the water in your cheeks when other Dean decided to drop this bomb and helped you to avoid another embarrassing fit in front of one - or two, you're not exactly sure how to address them - of the the most important people in your life.

"You're kidding." Your Dean says, looking as gobsmacked as you feel. 

"Nope. The first thing I did after returning to my time was shoot that bitch between her eyes. I hate witches, they're always spewing their bodily fluids everywhere." Other Dean chuckled.

Your hand unconsciously reaches out to his calloused one which is resting on the hardwood table without looking away from the other Dean who was talking quite animatedly. Your Dean lets you hold his hand before squeezing it twice and makes you smile shyly. You wonder if he knows that he's your emotional support person.

Green eyes wizened with age catch yours before motioning to your intertwined hands and promptly wink at you with an indescribable emotion passing as quick as it came, as if he is answering your question. You instantly look at your Dean to check if he saw what happened, but his eyes are fixed on where his thumb is running circles over the back of your palm.

Just then, the older Dean shouts, "Wait, how could I forget that happened," which almost makes you jump in your seat if it wasn't for Dean's touch grounding you.

"What do you mean?" The composed image that the older Dean had impressed on you is now replaced by horror and haste as he rushes out of the only other door out of the room. "You two being here means my wife is in danger!" He whisper-yells at you worriedly, making you and Dean share a worried look before taking off after him. 

You two follow him through his living room without having the time to pay attention to your surroundings. He finally slows down and opens a door to what looks like a tastefully done master bedroom. Panting, you wait for him to explain what's happening, but the other Dean just retrieves a duffel from a wardrobe and starts putting in clothes and weapons. 

You can tell your Dean is getting more agitated by the second as his lips form a thin line. "Got anything you should share with the class?"

You really want to laugh at how it feels like you're watching Dean look into a fun mirror which shows you how you'll age. Both of them are glaring daggers at each other, and there's no doubt that even one of them is enough to make monsters tremble with fear, but the situation is just too funny from your point of view. 

Trying to diffuse the tension, you clear your throat. "Dean, please tell us what's wrong. What about your wife?" Your voice cracks on the last word.

The man in question breaks the staring contest and begins packing again. "She's on a werewolf hunt with Jody and the girls. When I was in your shoes," he points to the younger him, "the future me - us, whatever, he went as backup leaving us in charge of the kids. When they came back, she was pretty beat up and I hope I'll be able to avoid that."

"Did you just say kids?" Your Dean asks wide-eyed.

Other Dean rolls his eyes while zipping his bag. "You saw Alex's booster seat, what's so surprising?" He says as he puts it over his shoulder before going out and walking downstairs again. Your Dean grabs his arm to stop him before he steps out of the threshold. But the other Dean just casually shrugs it off before he picks up Baby's keys from behind the main door. "So you're just leaving us here to take care of your kid? At least have the decency to tell us when you got back!"

" _Kids_." He stresses on the 's'. "Alex is about to turn three in a couple of weeks and our daughter, Cas is five. I'll probably be back in two days. Your feathered Cas will probably show up sometime after we return." 

The name Dean has chosen for his son is the same as that of your father, and it tugs at your heart, but you don't want to jump to conclusions yet. Alex is a fairly common name and it could just be a coincidence. 

"So you're trusting us to take care of your children?" You utter the next thing that comes to your mind. 

"They'll just be happy that you're spending time with them." He rubs his forehead after wringing his arm free from your Dean's grasp. The way he says it though doesn't instill much confidence in you because it's like he knows he's putting a lot of trust in two people he knows are incompetent. "Look, you don't have any other option. Just don't burn the house down and make sure my little spawns don't starve or hurt themselves and I think you'll be fine. Y/N and I bonded a lot during that time and we got closer."

Oh, it's the final nail on the coffin. You resign yourself to make peace with the fact that you stay friends and never become anything more than that, fighting the sudden rise of emotions and the urge to cry.

You're too lost in your thoughts to realise that the older Dean has walked to the Impala parked on the street. It's when your Dean yells, "Wait, we still have questions!" that has you break out of your reverie.

Other Dean makes a shushing motion, "Keep your voice down! It's what," he peeks at his smartwatch, "it's almost 8. They should be up in an hour. You'll figure it out, just don't let Cas near the neighbor's cat, she has my allergies and keep Alex from eating too much candy. I can guarantee that you'll regret it an hour later."

He climbs into the Impala, shoving the duffel on the backseat, before pausing with his hand on the ignition, giving you a pitiful shrug. "I would've left them with Sam but he's visiting Garth and Bess with Eileen. Good luck, you two. I'm sure you'll survive." And with a wave, he steers off.

Awkwardness surrounds you as the weight of what has just occured and what is going to happen settles in, you meet Dean's eye before he turns on his heels on the porch, and re-enters the house.

You bite your lips, hoping your words sound playful and joking because you are absolutely heartbroken inside. "Well, you named your son after my dad. Makes me wonder who the unfortunate girl you knocked up is, Winchester." Teasing has always come naturally as a defense mechanism to you, afterall, your heart still yearns for him even if he's not destined to be yours.

"I mean," You laugh as you step inside after him, "I must've done something heroic enough for you to name your son after my father and for your wife to even consider that. Who does that? I mean, I still don't understand how Harry convinced Ginny to name their son after Snape!" 

He smiles at you with a shake of his head as you come to stand beside him. Then, his eyes travel above your head and widen with surprise as he spots something startling behind you.

Dean soberly meets your eyes again, not saying anything. He shrugs before pointing his index at a family picture hung beside the TV, just out of your periphery. Your breath hitches as he whispers in a tender voice -

"Looks like it's you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... What do you guys think is gonna happen next? I'd definitely love to know what you guys think. Kudos and comments are reaally appreciated Xx


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